Blog on the Lillypad
Friday, December 26, 2003
 | Christmas with a Friend
I spent Christmas Day with a friend I've had for 30 years--a fellow who lived across the street from me when we were kids. All the way through our early twenties, we helped each other through a lot of hellish times. So now his wife is leaving him to have an affair with some guy who has already told her he's not going to marry her. My friend has been through one awful year. He's the greatest guy in the world, in my opinion. Does not know Christ, though I have witnessed to him often. But the best witness is to be his friend at a time like this. So after a decade of being somewhat mothballed, we've pulled out the friendship and found it still in perfect working order. |
He and I formally became friends when I was 12 and he was 11. My dad used to fly into rages and start swearing at me and my siblings, hitting us, etc. We flew into rages right back. I was a horrible kid. But my friend taught me to be composed and kind. I've always been a better person for having his friendship. He used to look out for me.
So we met at a Denny's in Virginia and had breakfast, and exchanged gifts. Then we went to the theater to see RETURN OF THE KING. But even though it had advertised being open on Christmas day, it was closed.
So we took long walks in the sunny cold morning and talked with each other about everything. Then we'd go back to the car to sit and get warm. Then we drove to an empty Cracker Barrell parking lot, and I taught him how to punch, in case he ought to punch the guy who's fooling around with his wife. (I'm a fourth degree black belt.) I have mixed feelings about him punching this guy, but if he's going to punch him I want him to get it right, and I think if he *can* punch him, that might actually stop him from trying it.
Then as we sat in his car and talked again, his cell phone rang. I heard a piping voice say, "Daddy, we're trying to sing the 12 days of Christmas, and we can't remember number six!" So he told his 9 year old daughter number six. The kids are with his wife, visiting her parents. A couple minutes later, the cell phone beeped again. The piping voice spoke up in earnestness: "Daddy, do you know 8, 9, and 10?" Snd my friend, who is always gentle and kind with his children, told her 8, 9, and 10. By now we knew to just wait. Within a minute, the phone rang again. It was his 11 year old son. "She forgot to ask you 11 and 12," he said. So my friend told him 11 and 12.
| By then it was noon, so we drank scotch together in the car and made toasts. We drank to our deceased childhood friend Chuck. And then because I had asked for scotch for Christmas because Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart of Doctor Who fame likes scotch, we drank to the Brigadier, and then of course, the Doctor. Then he offered a toast to the friend who saved his life, and I offered right back to the friend who saved my life. |  |
Then we talked about Nietzsche and other topics. We had a late lunch at the Denny's at about 3:00 and said goodbye at 3:30. There was a touch of sadness to everything, and yet it was a great Christmas. You never get what you think you're going to get in this life. But if you take what comes, you have a lot to be thankful for, even in sorrows.
